Protecting the Wife Ch. 01

"Consider it a win-win-win thing, Helen. I don't like Paulsen, you love anal, I'm luke-warm to anal, and Omar likes anal."

"Bob, I don't like Paulsen either, it's just straightforward sex with him. I think he's a sleazy asshole, and he thinks I'm an easy slut and a whore. We are perfectly matched."

"You mean, you were a perfect match. Use the past tense, baby. You're Omar's bitch now. He's servicing your slut ass, not Paulsen -- but even Omar's out, once I return."

"Aye aye, Captain! But, don't blame Omar on me. I didn't set that up. That was a surprise to me."

"Sounds like it was a pleasant surprise. You've done that before, haven't you."

"Noooo ... well ... yes," she said.

"What else have you done?"

"Use your imagination! Listen, Bob, I may not want to give him up. I was already turned on when he scared the shit out of me -- and, well, you know what that does to me -- so by the time he started pummeling my ass, I was delirious."

"You don't have to give him up, but you're also going to have to be able to accommodate my visits up your ass as well."

"If it stays the way it is right now, I'll be wide open for you all the time, honey. But I hope something changes by tomorrow, because I couldn't go to work like this. Wait a minute ... Omar wants his phone back ... Oh! Oh! Oh!"

"Helen? Helen? You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm back. Omar came in to get his phone and he's sticking his fingers up my cunt and my butt and I'm having another fucking orgasm! I've got to go. I'll call you tomorrow."

This time Helen let the call drop. I didn't know whether Omar would leave, or if he'd stay for more fucking. He was youthful, and I wouldn't put it past him to have stayed. He was probably ready to have another go. She sounded fucked out, but once Helen gets started, it's easy for her to keep on going and going. She becomes all nerve endings.

She didn't call. Omar didn't call. I sent him a text message.

"Thanks. Keep up the good work."

I called her at the law firm the next day.

"You're at your desk, I see."

"Standing by my desk today, technically. It feels better that way."

"Good planning, you've got to return home tonight."

"Not if I can help it! I'm looking forward to another go, but I need a day's rest. Besides, I've got a lot of work to do, so I'll stay as late as I can. You know, I don't look at the guys in the office the same way anymore -- they're too old for me after you-know-who."

"I know you've slept around a lot, Helen."

"I know you know, Bob, but let's face it, it got me where I am today. These guys all fuck around, so we girls have to fuck around, too, if we're going to play with the big boys. Bob, I hope you know that Paulsen thing was just for relief and it didn't put my job on the line or change anything between you and me. I know I'm really not a very nice person sometimes."

"I know, Helen, I know. It's over. Forget about it."

"At least you both had the same name and I didn't need to worry about blurting it out in a moment of ecstasy."

"Helen, just shut up about it."

"Thank you Bob."

I don't know why she was thanking me, because even I could foresee that she had a real problem on her hands with Omar -- at least, until I returned.

She had underestimated Omar that night. She had stayed late at work, but he was over within five-minutes of her return. He wanted one thing and one thing only. The next day, Helen called a mobile locksmith. When I called later that night, she told me that the guy had been installing deadbolts when Omar came in -- obviously he was watching her 24/7 -- after all, he was in debt to me. Omar looked at the work in progress and said,

"Mr. Buckley isn't going to like this."

He pulled her by the arm into the bedroom, sat her down, and began spanking her butt. She wrestled free, embarrassed about what that the locksmith would think of her getting spanked by a man twenty-years younger, but Omar grabbed both arms and pushed her back down onto the bed. In actuality, Helen gets very aroused by spanking and it took all of her strength to tell him to close the door. She wasn't sure what he'd do, but he closed the door and told her to take off her pants. She said, "No," but she took them off anyway, reminding me,

"He's over six feet tall!"

She said that after the fucking, she was ashamed to come out of the bedroom. She gets very vocal during ass fucking, but she had to pay the locksmith. Omar promptly disassembled the dead bolts and took them with him when he left. He returned later that night with cover plates for the holes. He also took Helen by her rear hole again.

That night, while we talked, Helen said, "I'm afraid of getting damaged. I've never done it this much in the butt. I'm getting quite addicted."

I hadn't thought about that possibility.

"What sort of damage?"

"Not damage, per se, but, you know, it kind of rearranges things down there and it takes a day or two to get back to normal -- only I haven't had a day or two to recuperate, so it's, like, a little more open than I'd like."

"I see, and you can expect he'll be there tomorrow night, too."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's helping me out while I'm gone. I told him you liked it."

"You didn't!"

"Yeah, I did. I told him you liked it a lot. You know why? Because you do."

"Yes and no. I like it when I want it, and I don't like it when I don't want it."

"Well, tell me, have you had an orgasm each and every time Omar's fucked your ass?"

"No, actually, I usually have two orgasms each and every time he fucks my ass: One for me, and one when he has his orgasm, but, yeah, I get your point: I like it even when I don't ask for it."

"Save some of that for me, baby."

"I don't know if I'm going to be able to take anymore by the time you get home."

"Well, I'll expect some from you when I see you on Friday, sore or not."

"Yes sir! I'm beginning to like getting bossed around, it's much easier this way."

Helen wasn't so blasé when I talked to her at eleven the next night. In fact, she was in a panic. She was angry and accusatory.

"Did you tell him he could bring over anyone else? Did you? You bastard! We've got to move. This is so embarrassing!"

Now she was alarming me. Something was awry.

"Helen! Calm down! What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Neil, Bubba, and Arnie, you bastard! Those stoners that he hangs out with! Do I have to spell it out for you? They all fucked the shit out of me!"

I had thought I'd teach Helen a lesson, but this was taking unexpected turns. Apparently, I wasn't in control anymore. Fortunately, as you'll see next, that's when Helen's true colors shone through.